


Till Dawn

by burymeinziam



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Infidelity, M/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-16
Updated: 2013-01-16
Packaged: 2017-11-25 17:26:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/641304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burymeinziam/pseuds/burymeinziam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You smell like cinnamon and vanilla.” There’s an edge to Zayn’s voice that Liam barely manages to catch and if he weren’t so distracted, it would probably make Liam feel a little nervous. “I wanna wash it off of you. Get rid of her so I can pretend she doesn’t exist.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Till Dawn

They’re tumbling through the door as soon as Liam’s card key gives them the green light and Zayn’s lips feel hot on Liam’s neck as he blindly searches for the birthmark Liam had never even really paid any attention to before they met. Zayn’s thumbs are slipping into the waistband of Liam’s jeans as he shoves him roughly against the wall, a quick shot of pain shooting through his skull at the contact.

“Fuck, Zayn, slow down a bit, yeah?” Liam offers breathlessly as his tilts his head to the side to allow Zayn better access to the skin of his neck. Liam’s eyes fall shut and his jaw goes slack at the feeling of Zayn sucking bruises into his skin because it feels so fucking _good_ and Zayn is groaning as he ruts shamelessly against Liam’s thigh in order to soothe the dull ache of a painful erection and Liam can feel all of it.

But then he remembers where he is and who he’s with and Liam’s eyes shoot open because he really shouldn’t be so careless.

“Shit, Zayn, no,” Liam says, breathless, as he pushes Zayn off of his neck. “No marks, remember?”

When he looks at him, Zayn’s pupils are blown and his lips are swollen and his hair, which is usually styled to perfection, is disheveled and messy and altogether unbelievably sexy. Liam only wants to pull him close all over again, drag his own lips over Zayn’s skin and to mark and claim this boy as his own. But Zayn’s eyes are also narrowed and his lips, although swollen from kissing, are pressed into a thin line.

“Don’t be mad.”

Zayn’s face goes from angry to something Liam doesn’t even know how to read as he shrugs his shoulders and takes a step forward, reentering Liam’s personal space. He pulls his shirt over his head and tosses it to the side, not caring about where it lands, before winding his arms around Liam's neck and leaning forward until all Liam is aware of is Zayn’s breath ghosting warm over the shell of his ear.

“Why would I be mad?”

Zayn’s voice is rough and low and teasing and goes straight to Liam’s dick. He doesn’t know what it is about Zayn that reduces him to a needy, wanton mess of sexual frustration and feelings Liam can’t even begin to fit together (let alone describe). Liam is usually calm, and rational, and collected. He doesn’t rent out moderately expensive hotel rooms so he can fuck some guy he's only known for a little over three months. Liam isn’t the type of person to receive a text half way through dinner with his girlfriend of five years and bolt because it turns out Zayn could meet him after all. Liam doesn’t do any of these things because he’s a good guy and it simply isn’t in his nature.

But that’s all bullshit and Liam knows it because here he is; he’s whining in the back of his throat and fucking up against Zayn’s hip because he’s horny as hell and Zayn’s breath on his skin is driving him insane.

“Bed,” Liam says quickly, detaching himself from Zayn’s grasp. He loses his shirt and his jeans on the way and is just about to drop his underwear as well when he turns around to see Zayn slowly trailing behind him, taking his time with his belt as he slides it through the loops of his jeans.

Liam climbs onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard and watches as Zayn drops his belt to the floor. Zayn’s face is schooled into this smug expression that would annoy Liam to no end if he weren’t so fucking gone, but all he can think about is how labored his breathing has become and the ache of his cock in his underwear and the way Zayn is slowly unbuttoning his jeans.

“Fucking Hell,” Liam whispers under his breath as his head thumps against the pillows and his hand slips beneath the waistband of his briefs.

Liam has only just begun to feel a minor sense of relief before the bed is dipping and Zayn is hovering over him, easing his hand out of underwear.

“None of that,” Zayn mumbles moving Liam’s hands to his sides.

Liam is about to protest, maybe even tell Zayn he needs to quit it because he’s been doing quite a lot of teasing since they stepped foot into the hotel and it’s not like they have a lot of time because his girlfriend is still back at the apartment and she’s probably expecting Liam back by at least one, but then Zayn’s fingers are tickling the skin covering his hips and his briefs are being inched (ever so slowly) down his thighs and Liam feels as though he can finally breathe. When he looks down the bed at Zayn, Liam doesn’t miss the hungry look his eyes nor the way his tongue darts out to lick at his lips as Zayn takes in the way Liam’s cock is resting hard, heavy, and swollen red against his stomach.

After a few long seconds Liam can feel his face heat up in embarrassment because Zayn is just _staring_ and, even though he’s seen it a million times, having Zayn’s eyes drinking in every inch of his naked body still makes him uncomfortable.

“Are you just going to sit there are look at me?” Liam asks, impatient.

Zayn meets Liam’s gaze, leaning forward to drape his body of Liam’s before nuzzling into the line of Liam’s collarbone. “You smell like her,” he says. Zayn’s voice is quiet and a little passive and Liam isn’t sure where the statement is coming from.

“I…”

Zayn lifts his head, drags his lips along the line of Liam’s jaw as one hand reaches to grip at the base of his cock, squeezing, and causing Liam to gasp out in shock at the contact.

“You always smell like her,” Zayn continues, setting up a slow, steady rhythm. His grip is a little dry and slightly uncomfortable at first, but then Zayn is using the precome that has gathered at the head of Liam’s cock as a lubricant and twisting his wrist and dragging his thumb over the slit on the down stroke making Liam squeeze his eyes shut, his breathing coming out in short, rushed pants and huffs of air.

“You smell like cinnamon and vanilla.” There’s an edge to Zayn’s voice that Liam barely manages to catch and if he weren’t so distracted, it would probably make Liam feel a little nervous. “I wanna wash it off of you. Get rid of her so I can pretend she doesn’t exist.”

Liam can’t even think of anything to say in return, only managing a loud groan as Zayn’s hand picks up in pace. Liam can feel where Zayn is hard beneath the thin cotton of his briefs as he rocks his hips against Liam’s thigh, his eyes slipping closed as Zayn sighs at the contact.  

“Remember that night when we first met?” Zayn asks, breathlessly as his hand slides down Liam’s cock, past his balls, until one of his fingers is rubbing circles around his entrance causing Liam to jolt in surprise.

But even if his mind is feeling a little hazy and he has a hard time thinking past the way Zayn’s index finger feels a little dry as it fights past the constricting muscles of Liam’s asshole, past Zayn’s tongue dancing circles around his right nipple, Liam does remember the first time he saw Zayn leaning casually against the bar at the banquet Danielle had dragged him to a little over three months ago.

“Do you, Li?” Zayn exhales, his breath feeling both hot and cold against the spit coating Liam’s skin. Liam’s jaw goes slack, his legs spreading open on instinct as Zayn forces in a second finger, and nods his head dumbly because that’s all he can really manage at the moment.

“She caught you staring and she didn’t like it,” Zayn continues, lifting his eyes to meet Liam’s half lidded ones. Liam clenches down around Zayn’s fingers relishing in the slight burning sensation of being stretched open. A low whine slips past his lips when Zayn scissors his fingers and crooks them _just right_ and Zayn smirks, sliding his palm up the expanse of Liam’s chest, flushed red, until his fingers are nested within the hairs at the nape of Liam’s neck.

“She saw that you wanted me and she didn’t like it,” Zayn says darkly before slipping a third finger in without warning. Liam groans. “I wonder what she would have thought if she knew I fucked in the janitor’s closet that night, huh?” He’s thrusting his fingers in hard now; twisting and stretching Liam open like it’s the last chance he’ll get. “You smelled like her then, too.” And then he’s gone; Zayn drags his fingers out and leaves Liam squeezing down around nothing but air.

Zayn is still hovering over him, silently finding joy in how absolutely wrecked Liam looks lying on the bed with his legs spread wide open like a two bit whore. But Zayn knows better than to think Liam does this for anybody. He doesn’t let go, bare himself naked for the world to see, for just anybody. And with the way Liam’s eyes slide open, hazy and gone like Liam can focus on nothing but this moment – when Zayn’s body is a welcome weight resting against his own – Zayn knows he’s special; it’s something he’s unable to doubt even though he often finds himself second guessing whatever strange relationship he and Liam share.

Zayn just wonders if Liam is this open when he’s in bed with his girlfriend. He wonders if Liam’s heart beats just as quickly as it’s beating now; if his girlfriend notices tiny beads of sweat that pool around Liam’s temples and slip down his cheeks only to get lost in the crevice where his neck meets his shoulder. Zayn wonders if Liam makes all the same noises – the whines that get lodged in the back of his throat, the choked off sobs, and uninhibited moans – for her as he does for him. Zayn wonders if there is a difference or if this is just Liam getting what he wants.

“You smell like her now,” Zayn mumbles, avoiding Liam’s gaze. “Still.”

Liam arches up off of the bed, pressing his lips to Zayn’s as his hands find his hips so he can inch Zayn’s underwear down his thighs. The kiss is messy and lacks any real skill or finesse that the boys might have had under different circumstances. It’s just that Liam wants and needs and Zayn is lost in his desire to claim something that he isn’t even sure ever belonged to him in the first place. Zayn’s mouth falls open around a groan when he feels Liam’s hand grip his cock, thumbing over the tip, and Liam takes the opportunity to lick into Zayn’s mouth tasting the aftermath of smoked cigarettes and the gum Zayn chews to try and mask the taste.

“Lube,” Liam mumbles, his lips sliding over Zayn’s chin as he pulls away, his head thumping against the pillows.

Zayn nods, climbing off of the bed and fishing the lube and a condom from the pair of jeans he’d left lying on the floor near the foot of the bed. When he’s back on the bed kneeling between Liam’s legs he’s about to tear open the condom when Liam sits up and stills his hands.

“No condom,” he says quietly. “I wanna feel you.” Liam’s voice is a little rougher than usual and it makes Zayn want to push him back down onto the mattress and fuck so hard he won’t be able to walk right for days. But the main thing on Zayn’s brain is the sincerity in Liam’s eyes and it almost makes him hate Liam because he can’t do this. Liam shouldn’t be doing this. He can’t look at Zayn with earnest brown eyes that scream something akin to ‘I love you”. Liam shouldn’t have the right to have a grip so tight on Zayn’s soul only to take it home with him and lie next to a woman who doesn’t look at Liam, doesn’t touch Liam, the way Zayn does.

Zayn wants to hate Liam; to push him away and scream obscenities at him until his lungs and his throat have gone raw and dry.

But Zayn doesn’t. He can’t.

Zayn only whispers a near silent “okay” and tosses the condom aside before slicking himself up with a little too much lube and moving forward to hover over Liam’s waiting body. He lines himself up, rubbing teasing circles around Liam’s rim and basking in the way Liam squirms and shivers. Zayn can’t help but to feel smug in knowing he can reduce Liam into something so raw and outside of the persona he embodies outside of these walls. He likes knowing there is a side of Liam that’s reserved for him even if it is something he doesn’t necessarily get to keep.

“Do you want it?” He asks, trailing his fingers over Liam’s quivering thighs and leaning forward to press a kiss next to Liam’s cock where it’s resting against his stomach.

“Yeah, Zayn,” Liam breathes, throwing an arm over his eyes. “Shit…”

Zayn pushes in, breeching past muscle that straining to keep him out, and Liam’s hands are on his ass forcing him in further as he sighs deeply at the feeling of Zayn filling him to the brim. Zayn’s head falls against Liam’s shoulder when his hips are flush against Liam’s ass, his breathing coming out in shallow puffs of carbon dioxide,  because being inside of Liam is like this overwhelming feeling of coming home after being gone for far too long even though he hasn’t been away for more than three days.

Liam’s palms slide up Zayn’s back, over the sharp line of his shoulder blades, until his arms are twining around Zayn’s neck. “Go on,” he whispers. “It’s okay; I’m okay. You can move.”

It starts off with a few shallow thrusts of Zayn’s hips, Liam’s eyes falling shut and his mouth hanging open just the slightest bit. Zayn looks down at Liam and he doesn’t think he’s seen anything prettier.

It continues with Liam’s quiet panting turning into quiet pleas of “yes” and “more” and “ohh” and, while Liam’s face is still the epitome of beauty, when he opens his eyes Zayn can’t help but to wonder if Liam looks at Danielle with that same adoration when he’s laid out on top of her in bed.

And then Zayn’s movements are no longer slow and languid. They turn into something possessive, and tempestuous. Liam’s eyes snap open at the sudden change in pace a loud “fuck” tumbling over his lips as his hands grip the sheets.

“You like that, Liam?” Zayn asks, his hands gripping Liam’s sides as he forces himself in deeper. “Wonder what she would think if she could see you now. I wonder how she would feel knowing you lay yourself out for me; let me fuck you like this.” Liam arches up, groaning loudly as he rocks his hips to meet up with each snap of Zayn’s hips. “Wonder what she would think if she saw what a mess you were right now.”

Liam isn’t thinking. Zayn’s words aren’t even registering in his mind. All he can focus on is feeling full and the dull ache of the relentless pounding of Zayn’s cock in his ass. “Fuck, Zayn,” Liam whines and the only other word that comes to mind is “Harder.”

Zayn can feel the storm building in the pit of his stomach; can feel the tension building and he knows he isn’t going to last much longer. Looking down, Liam’s already touching himself his hand moving fast and needy over his own leaking erection.

“Does she ever see you like this?” Zayn asks, leaning forward so his lips are only a few mere inches from his ear as he drives into Liam. “Does she ever see you like I see you?”

Liam shivers at the feeling of Zayn’s breath hot against his skin and shakes his head, meeting Zayn’s eyes when he backs away, moaning as Liam squeezes down around his cock. “No,” he gasps out. “Only you.”

A twist of his twist and a particularly rough thrust on Zayn’s end has Liam spilling over his own hand as his eyes go wide and his mouth falls open releasing a guttural moan from his lungs. He’s squeezing tight around Zayn’s cock, prompting a choked off gasp as Zayn pounds roughly into Liam until his orgasm hits him full on. Zayn’s legs are shaking as he continues to shallowly thrust into Liam until the boy beneath him is whining due to oversensitivity.

“Fuck.” Zayn sighs as he collapses onto Liam, not caring that he still has come coating his stomach.

“Yeah…” Liam replies with a small smile as he threads his fingers through Zayn’s hair and presses a kiss to his lips. Zayn nips playfully at Liam’s bottom lip, loving the way they always feel the slightest bit chapped before pulling away and burying his face into the crook of Liam’s neck.

Zayn pulls Liam impossibly close in hopes that it will make him stay a little longer. Zayn knows he’ll have to leave eventually, but he’s hoping for tonight. Zayn hopes he can have Liam for the night, just once, so he can pretend that this isn’t a hotel, but their bedroom and Zayn isn’t haunted by phantom girlfriends and the prospect of a phone call that will tear Liam from his arms. Zayn holds Liam and silently asks for one night.

But, just as always, Liam’s phone does ring and Zayn is reminded that hoping and praying, no matter how hard, is always done in vain.

“Leave it,” Zayn mumbles. He doesn’t know why he bothers because Liam is going to answer it; he always does.

“I can’t,” Liam responds guiltily. “It could be…”

Zayn sighs and rolls off of Liam, folding his arms over his chest and staring wordlessly up at the ceiling. He feels like he’s being childish. It wasn’t as if he didn’t know what he was getting into when he starting fucking around with Liam. Zayn knew Liam had a girlfriend and he knew nothing would ever come from quick fucks in the backseat of Liam’s car and Friday nights spent locked away in hotel rooms. He knew all of this from the beginning, but he never expected to grow attached. He never expected to fall a little bit in love with the way Liam blushed each time Zayn brushed his knuckles over his cheek after he kisses Liam hello. He never expected to love waking up to good morning text messages and secret phone calls in the middle of the night. Zayn didn’t expect things to become so messy; he didn’t expect feelings because he didn’t usually do them.

Zayn hears Liam mumble an “okay” into the phone and an “I’ll be there in a few” followed be an “I love you too” and he knows tonight is over; this is all he’s getting.

“Hey, I’ve got–”

Zayn cuts Liam off with a dismissive wave of his hand, avoiding eye contact altogether as he rolls over in the bed. “Go ahead, Li,” he says. “Do what you gotta do.”

“Don’t be mad,” Liam replies and it’s just like before only his voice is a little thicker this time; like he means it.

“I’m not,” Zayn assures him. He wishes it were a lie, but it isn’t. He could never truly be mad at Liam even if he wanted to. He’s just hurt and frustrated because he has to share him with someone he feels may be a little more deserving, but doesn’t want Liam nearly as much.

“Zayn,” Liam presses moving toward the bed, but Zayn stops him by sitting up and pressing his palm flat against Liam’s chest. He can feel the quickened pace of Liam’s heartbeat and Zayn sighs sadly knowing it’s because of him.

“It’s fine,” he says, closing his eyes around a heavy exhale. “Do what you’ve gotta do, okay?”

Zayn chances a look at Liam’s face and he can see the guilt pooling in his eyes and he immediately feels sorry and a bit selfish for not even considering how Liam must be feeling; how torn he must be. Zayn cups Liam’s cheek and presses a quick kiss to his cheek before forcing a smile.

“I’ll just stay here and keep the bed warm and you can… you can call me tomorrow, okay?”

Liam nods. “Okay.”

Zayn lies back down in the bed, pulling the blankets up to his chin and settling back into the pillows. He can hear Liam cleaning up in the bathroom, probably washing the dried come off of his stomach, doing his best to rid himself of everything resembling sex, and he runs his fingers along the mess coating his own skin and sighs. When Liam comes back he’s dressed and looking just as he had when Zayn had met him in the hotel lobby. He stops by the edge of the bed and presses a kiss to Zayn’s hair, promising to call him in the morning.

“Yeah,” Zayn replies. “Okay.”

Then Liam is crossing the room and slipping out into the hallway, the door locking behind him with a quiet click.

And Zayn is left, curled up in the remains of sex soiled sheets wallowing in the knowledge that the next time he sees Liam he’ll smell of cinnamon and vanilla.


End file.
